Errand Runner
by Ihsan997
Summary: Eager to become a true adventurer, Jayavarna and a group of other young heroes enter an initiation rite for a secretive guild. None of them were prepared for what they'd face in the harsh reality of war. WARNING: this story has a sad ending. Beware. 4 chapters.
1. Guild Interview

**A/N: this is a tale that is, indirectly, a part of the trials and tribulations of the women of Serenity. The story is standalone, though; you can read this and nothing else of mine, and the story will still make sense. For more info on who they are, feel free to check my account on DA.**

 **The disclaimer is simple: the story has a bad ending. I was upset about something when the idea was conceived and when the story was written. It was difficult to write; the best I can say is that, since this is part of a larger continuum, those who choose to read a much longer story coming early next year titled 'You, Me & Us' will get to see a measure of justice served for the perpetrators here.**

Jayavarna clacked her hooves together as she waited, staring at the lush grass beneath her feet. Ashenvale was a beautiful place, and being there reminded her of growing up in Shadowmoon Valley. Constant dark skies and ethereal wildlife were remarkably similar in both areas; if she could never return to Outland after her planet's ruination, perhaps she could contribute to the preservation of another one.

The native people of the region designed interesting architecture and aesthetics. The silk tent before her looked unusually tall to her, and certainly didn't contain enough floor space for anybody to sit down. How they intended to undertake the guild interview was beyond her, but considering how eager she was to join, she really wasn't in any place to ask excessive questions.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the tent flap ruffled, and she immediately straightened up. Stepping outside, full combat gear and all was a night elf sentinel about the same height as Jayavarna herself; the woman's hair was a silver color that the draenei understood to be rare among the woman's people, and it hung in a braided ponytail draped around the woman's shoulder pauldrons. Every bit the rushed, preoccupied guild official, the recruiter and quartermistress held a clipboard in her hand and almost walked right by without saying hello.

Reminding seated on the type of smooth rock that the night elves seemed to use as chairs, Jayavarna forced herself to wait patiently despite her pounding heart, bubbling excitement and poking worry that she'd be passed over or ignored. This was her first real foray outside of the Azuremyst Isles since her people had landed on Azeroth, and she found herself nervous and desiring acceptance. The Light appeared to smile on her, and at the last minute the silver haired sentinel slowed down, looked the draenei over and then glanced at her clipboard.

"For an interview?" the quartermistress asked in a somewhat nasally voice. Her left nostril wheezed slightly whenever she inhaled, which added to her intimidation factor.

It took Jayavarna a few seconds to realize that she'd been addressed. "Beg your pardon?" she replied in Common, her grammatical accuracy relatively high in the language but her fluency still poor.

Though the expression of the stoic elf didn't change, her tone became a little more terse. "Are you here for a guild interview or not?" the woman asked impatiently.

"Oh, yes, of course! I scheduled it with one of your members who approached me in Forest Song!" Jayavarna tightened her baldric and leapt to her hooves, eager to demonstrate her readiness. "They told me all about it at the new inn they have there, apparently you all just got enough signatures for your charter and it's in processing right now."

"Slow down," the wheezy nosed sentinel told her in a plain, almost disinterested voice. Jayavarna opened her mouth for just another second before shutting it quickly, controlling her excitement at having gained the ear of the guild's second in command. "If you're here, then you've likely been told all you need to be before initiation. We, however, will need to ask you some questions."

"Sure! No problem! You know, I'm so happy to contribute to the defense of the Alliance any way I can; our people really would be in much more dire straits were we not welcomed by such open arms. In fact..." Her voice trailed off when she noticed absolutely no reaction from the quartermistress. Elves in general were difficult for her to figure out, and because she didn't know exactly what the woman was thinking, she decided to behave in the most reserved way possible. "...I'm just glad to be here," she finished, not knowing what else to say.

For a little while longer, the silver haired sentinel just looked at her, giving her a bit of a self conscious feeling as the two of them stood alone there in the woods. "Alright, then. If you're ready, we can start. You're the last one to make it and our guild's captain had almost prepared to retire for the morning."

"Oh! The captain! You mean I get to meet the founder of the guild?"

Blinking eyes and a wheezing nostril was all that greeted the ecstatic draenei. "Please behave appropriately when standing before Captain Gwynneth," the sentinel ordered.

"Yes ma'am!" Jayavarna replied with a little salute.

Silent and contained, the sentinel turned heel and walked past the silk tent into the darkness shortly before dawn. At first, Jayavarna thought she was to wait, but when the night elf covered too much distance she began to follow, not wanting to be left behind. Beyond the first tent stood three more in a row; the one in the middle was rather large and there were some of the furry animals that the locals referred to as nightsabres sleeping in front of it. Not even turning back to acknowledge the motivated draenei, the quartermistress disappeared into the large middle tent. Anticipation caused Jayavarna's heart to thump in her chest, and no matter how hard she strained, she couldn't hear a peep from what was going on inside.

Right when she felt the depressing feeling that she'd been forgotten creeping up on her, the tent flap rustled and she stood up straight again. The first thing she saw was green; a long green ponytail, the green greaves, the green blazon on the woman's shoulder, the green dye in the hilt of the woman's long, thin sword. She walked with a confidence that lacked her right hand woman's haughtiness, and exuded a quiet sense of dignity as she stopped before the potential new member.

If there ever was a time where Jayavarna had felt she was being tested, the few wordless seconds when the guild's leader inspected her armor was it. There was not a hint of disrespect in the gaze of those two silver eyes, yet Jayavarna felt nervous nonetheless. She put her hands on her hips. Then behind her back. Then aplomb at her sides. Then she wrought them in front of her.

"I'm really nervous," she chuckled at herself, immediately asking herself why she'd said that thereafter.

A voice that was tired yet still inspiring spoke. "Don't be; you would not be here were you not already pre approved," the woman known as Captain Gwynneth replied.

A pleasant confusion worked its way into Jayavarna's mind. "Wha - pre approved? I thought it would be...did I pass some sort of a test?" Her mind raced as fast as her heart as she backtracked and tried to remember if she'd been asked any questions that may have been testing her without her noticing.

Clear, uninhibited breathing filled the crisp morning air. Every word Gwynneth said was amazing, every answer she gave well considered. " _A_ test, yes...the first of several. The results will be withheld until a later time; pre approval is different from approval," the woman explained, and it would have been dishonest for Jayavarna to claim that she didn't feel her shoulders droop a bit at the news that she hadn't been accepted just yet. "The second test is right here; right now." As if seeing right through her and her nervousness, Gwynneth raised a hand symbolically in order to quell the draenei's anxiety. "It's the most simple test as well; you needn't worry."

"No, not me; I'm ready for anything!"

Jayavarna worried but avoided tapping her hooves on the grassy ground. The two of them had remained standing in front of the tent the whole time, and the guild leader made no move to sit down just yet. The draenei half expected Gwynneth to start throwing knives at her to dodge or something intimidating like that.

Instead, she was treated to a somber reminder of why she was in need of allies. "Is the report correct that you lost all your living relatives when your people's vessel crashed on our planet?" Gwynneth asked.

Though the wound had long since healed, it took Jayavarna a moment to finish reeling from the personal nature of the question. At some point during her conversation with the recruiter she'd met at Forest Song, she'd let a few details of her situation slip after a few drinks. She didn't feel exposed so much as surprised.

"Yes...like many of my people, unfortunately," she answered, pulling her own straight face this time. "I guess you could say that I'm in need of a new proverbial family..." Once more, she regretted the words that had come out of her own mouth, and her own tendency to offer personal details a little too easily.

But Gwynneth didn't balk, laugh or even look surprised. "Jayavarna, I hope that we can be that new family of yours," the green haired woman said in a distant but sincere voice that spoke of both honesty and professional distance. "Until you earn your place in the guild, you will need to find your own accommodation here in the woods for today; our guild tents are exclusive. If you survive and are rested enough to defend our planet, then meet here at this very spot tomorrow evening. Do not tell a soul."

"I swear, not a word!"

"You will see other hopefuls here tomorrow. Be wary of them and do not become attached; anyone you befriend may not be breathing by the end of our test operation. There is a storm brewing...not all will survive. Those who do and who uphold the sacred duty we all hold to the land will be our initiates. The only alternative is glorious death in battle, or the flight of a coward from the field."

The miniature speech was given with such cold conviction that Jayavarna felt her chest swell with pride right there, even without knowing the full details of the operation yet. She didn't bother asking; she understood that as a non member, she had little chance of being trusted with the inner workings of the guild's plans to protect her new planet.

"You can count on me, Captain Gwynn! It is my hope that some day I'll earn the right to address you as _my_ captain." For extra effect, she thumbed herself, emphasizing the fact that she wasn't yet a member but fully intended to be.

The faintest hint of a smile crept onto Gwynneth's green lips, and the subtlety made it all the more endearing. "That's the spirit; see you tomorrow." At that, the guild leader promptly returned to the tent with the quartermistress. The flap closed behind her and the area fell silent; there didn't even seem to be any hushed review of the interview of brief words before retiring for the day, which is when these beings slept.

It would also be where Jayavarna would sleep until the evening. Normally she would detest such a disruption, but in this case she was just happy to have a chance to prove herself, perhaps find her calling on this brave new world she lived on.

Lugging her two handed sword strapped to her baldric, she began scanning for safe places to sleep. This would be a long day.


	2. March to War

Despite the mass of hopeful recruits to the guild, there was a surprising quiet in the forest that early evening. For Jayavarna, the temperature felt chilly and the light fog added to the excitement. Never before had she come into direct conflict with the Horde; and by the looks of nervousness on many of the others lined up there, she could tell that she wasn't the only one.

Humans, gnomes, dwarves, worgen and even other draenei all lined up and clamored in a rough formation despite having been left to their own devices. None of them knew each other, but most of them had slept around each other; every one of them had made it past the first, unnamed test, and had survived a night in the woods with no direction and few provisions.

The silver haired quartermistress folded her arms behind her and stalked up and down the rows of a few dozen hopefuls. Her assistants, also night elves, stood at the sides and kept watch lest the guild recruitment meeting be interrupted by interlopers. Ener was high despite the overall quiet.

Standing next to Jayavarna were two friends, a human man whose head rose to the same level as her abdomen and a man from her own race who wielded a large warhammer. They spoke in low, hushed tones so as not to cause any disturbance to the serious scene.

"...heard that we're the first non night elves to be given a chance for admittance to the guild. They used to be exclusive, but I think they've realized the value of what diversity can offer."

The human nodded without turning to his large friend. "They're clever ones, those Kaldorics. When you live that long, I'm sure you learn a few things, as you already know."

"You bet we do," the draenei man chuckled in a low voice.

"Are we going to be admitted for sure if we survive?"

Jayavarna hadn't intended for the words to escape her lips, but somehow they had, and loud enough for the two men next to her to hear. For a few seconds they only glanced at her sideways, and she felt embarrassed at her outspokenness.

Fortunately for her, the human smiled wryly and spoke at a volume that was barely loud enough for his friend and her to hear. " _If_ we survive, sweetheart. That's a big if - I heard that we're going up against Warsong."

His draenei friend snorted in dismissal. "Until Captain Gwynneth gives official word, we really don't know anything for sure. I'm Luro, by the way," the male draenei whispered to her.

"Harper," the human added while sending her a wink.

Inside, Jayavarna felt herself stiffen. She knew she shouldn't be letting herself get close to people who might not make it; this was a field test in the literal sense. For sure, not all of them would survive, and answering could let her get attached. She'd already lost so much.

Against her better judgment, she decided to reciprocate. "I'm...Jayavarna," she replied shyly.

"Glad to have you with us, Jay-Vay," the human quipped in an accent she assumed to be strange for his people. From the corner of her eye, she noticed Harper surreptitiously eyeing her broadsword from the corner of his. "Another two hander, eh? Stick close to me; I'm the best shot with my old blunderbuss here this side of Kalimdor. You and Luro will be totally covered when we go in."

Her heart fluttered, not in the sense of being flattered so much as at the prospects of making friends so quickly and easily on Azeroth. She didn't know either of them, and she knew better than to automatically assume that all draenei were her friends, but she felt such a sincerity from Harper and Luro both that she felt very well supported. Which was important, considering the fact that unlike Luro, she couldn't afford a helmet yet.

"I will ensure that none of the outriders are able to reach-"

"Attention!" the silver haired sentinel bellowed, garnering a jolt from all the hopefuls before her.

All at once, the few dozen potential recruits formed three rows of troops, trying their best to impress the woman who could be the future quartermistress of a great number of them. Her sentinel assistants held their positions, absolutely unmoving and unflinching as they continued watching the trees. A handful of bungling humans required extra time to find their place among the ranks, and their faces went from various shades of beige and caramel to bright red as they realized everyone was waiting on them. Eventually, they found their places, and three and a half rows of troops formed before the rather serious looking second in command at the guild. Her nostril wheezed rhythmically as she scanned every one of the potential recruits, making them visibly nervous under her scrutiny.

Out of nowhere, the green haired guild leader materialized before them as if by magic. A few of the obviously younger hopefuls gasped in awe, amazed by the ability of Gwynneth to disappear at will when darkness had fallen. Jayavarna had heard that the natives of the continent possessed such abilities and night, and while she realized it must be routine and mundane for them, she was impressed nonetheless.

Unlike her second in command, Gwynneth looked much less discriminating as she looked over the rows. Not quite pleasant, but certainly less intimidating. When she straightened up, she was taller than everyone except for Luro and one of Azeroth's wolf men from across the ocean, and even then, she was still able to look them both in the eye. Everything about her seemed noble - elegant yet fierce, sleek and stealthy. She hadn't donned her combat armor and instead wore a guild tabard bearing ancient elven runes that Jayavarna couldn't read, though her rather artful and gleaming sword was still sheathed on her belt.

Finally, she spoke in her lightly accented Common. "I shan't mince words; you all know why you're here. All of you - every one of you - passed the first test, whether you realize it or not. Very few made it this far; for that at least, you are deserving of respect." A gnome in the back tried to initiate a round of applause, but gradually stopped when she realized that nobody else responded. Playing it off as if it didn't happen, Gwynneth continued. "For security reasons, little information can be divulged until the operation has reached its completion; however, to show you why we are here is much better than to simply tell you." Gwynneth motioned toward nothing only for two more of her aides to materialize out of thin air as she had. The two women promptly stepped behind a fallen log and began to handle a large object that they lifted with ease.

"Oh my..." gasped someone of indeterminable race or gender from the back row.

Folded up inside a bedsheet laid out by the two sentinels lied the bodies of several people. A human, two gnomes, and a brave night elf sentinel wearing the same tabard as the guild members had all been stuffed inside, obviously by someone bearing ill intentions. The two living sentinels bowed subtly toward the corpses before disappearing into thin air again, leaving Gwynneth and her right hand woman standing before the hopefuls once more.

"This is what the Horde has done to our people; for we all - the members of the Alliance - are one people together. A settlement once lied to the south - well within the boundaries of Ashenvale. Vol'jin, the new warmonger of the savages to the south, swore a verbal oath to our High Priestess that he would put an end to all deforestation operations in Ashenvale in return for logging rights in Azshara; and by the goddess, he has lied.

"This settlement was ransacked by orcs - the backbone of the Horde. They do not intend to honor their leader's promises - not here, nor anywhere else. And an attack here is the same as an attack anywhere else; Ashenvale _is_ Duskwood. It _is_ Hillsbrad. It _is_ Gilneas. And it _is_ Shadowmoon. All that lies beneath the gold and blue flag is one and the same; the Horde seeks you, your loved ones, your communities and all they hold dear. Their purpose is the same everywhere: to put an end to the civilized people of every planet they tarnish, and destroy all in their wake. Negotiation has been exhausted; extermination is all we have left."

"God damn orcs..." Harper muttered through grit teeth.

"The time is now; preparation is through. Behind me lies the murderers of these four, and many more like them; the blood is still fresh on the ground. The barbarians have set up camp in our former settlement because they are unable to achieve on their own; they have raised their bloody flag and covered our buildings in their uncivilized spikes and plundered lumber. Find them in the streets; find them in their burrows. Kill every orc that you find, for they will surely kill you if granted the opportunity. Any greenskin left alive will surely inform his allies, and the cycle will continue. Understand this: you _must_ succeed. All the surrounding settlements depend on it."

Silence fell over the hopefuls as Gwynneth paused for a moment, leaving the corpses between herself and all the rows of troops for them to gave upon. The anger and tension was as palpable as the effect her speech had on the others.

After an uncomfortable amount of time had passed, she gave a very subtle waggle of one of her long eyebrows to her right hand woman. "You have five minutes; prepare yourselves," the quartermistress bellowed, her mouth opening wide enough to reveal her fangs. "Your test is to be undertaken alone; we will watch, but not intervene. If you fail, more innocents will die. Five minutes; be ready to march!" The volume of her voice as she shouted the last part gave the hopefuls a jolt, and people began discarding their travel gear and readying their guns, bows, staves and melee weapons as quickly as they could.

Gradually the group dispersed, and the sentinels who had been keeping watch spread out in a column leading south; they would most assuredly be watching, but would not accompany the hopefuls to the battle itself.

Deep in the pit of her stomach, Jayavarna felt uneasy. All the other hopefuls appeared uplifted and motivated by the speech; even Luro seemed rather excited at the prospect of violent and dangerous conflict. Doubt crept into her mind as she began to wonder if the training she received at the Exodar after crashing on this planet hadn't quite been enough.

Apparently, the guild's leader noticed her apprehension. Taking her by the arm using a surprising gentleness, Gwynneth pulled the troubled draenei aside. Jayavarna stiffened up, worried that her demeanor would result in her ejection from the guild trials.

"You're going to be key in this assault, Jayavarna," Gwynneth whispered to her, pronouncing her name perfectly.

Relief fought against doubt within her; the night elves were so contained that it was impossible to tell if the guild leader really meant it, or was trying to build confidence in a weak link. "You really think so?" she asked in a less firm voice than she'd wished to use.

The faintest hint of a smile cracked at the corner of Gwynneth's mouth. Her breath smelled like garlic, but Jayavarna liked it in a weird way. "Jayavarna...you would not have made it this far had our recruiter not witnessed potential in you. This is a very serious operation; innocent lives are at stake. We would not entrust the task to those we do not trust."

"That...that makes me feel so much better, Captain. I hope that I can do a good job for our people...all of our people."

"You will; of that, I am sure. What you need to do is ensure that not a single orc leaves that settlement alive." The words were difficult for Jayavarna to accept, and Gwynneth noticed. "You hesitate."

"No, no, I'm ready! Absolutely ready. It's just...I knew orcs on Draenor. They are a warlike race, but I knew individuals. Some of them were very kind people, and were also hurt by the Burning Legion. There must be some on this planet who retain a measure of civilization as well."

A long arm wrapped around Jayavarna's shoulder, shielding their conversation from eyeshot and earshot of the other hopefuls, who were nearly finished in their preparations. "Jayavarna...I understand your sentiment. We all have a desire for peace; no civilized person disagrees. But sometimes, a minority of the population must take up the mantle of a warrior so that the majority can have that peace, and not worry about the ugliness of the world. That is why we must do this; the orcs here are not like the individuals you knew. They are evil; every last one of them has been afflicted by demonic corruption. You can't let those memories taint your objectivity here; this is war." Gwynneth motioned toward the runes on her tabard, though Jayavarna didn't quite understand. "Do you understand?" the guild leader asked, placing her hands on the draenei's shoulders softly, much in the way her aunt did during her childhood back in Shadowmoon Valley.

"I guess...yes, I understand!" Jayavarna replied, forcing confidence into her voice. Her chest almost felt restricted beneath the gaze of the quartermistress, who glanced at the private conversation from a few yards away.

"Good. Go on now...your comrades need you. Please, keep as many alive as you can."

Looking behind them, Jayavarna saw Luro and Harper helping each other tighten the buckles of their armor. The two of them looked very serious, but as inexperienced as her; Harper's armor was too large for his small human body and Luro's warhammer wasn't secured to his baldric properly. "I will! I won't let anyone down...not them, not the Alliance, and not the guild, Captain." By the time she'd finished talking, Gwynneth and the quartermistress had disappeared, leaving a handful of sentinels to form a column guiding the recruits south.

The few dozen troops marched; in between the trees, they could already see the fires of the settlement burning. Burnt wood filled Jayavarna's lungs, and her hands shook in anticipation. This would be her first full scale assault; a quiet prayer served as her only words as she hoped she'd live to see the sun rise again.


	3. The Aftermath

Jayavarna choked on the smoke and haze as she regained consciousness. Short term memory failed her, and she had no idea why she was waking up surrounded by smoke. Her lungs and nostrils burned and she coughed hoarsely as she struggled beneath a few dead bodies and half of a collapsed bookshelf. Smoke filled her field of vision and she struggled to remember what had happened after she and her contingent chased several enemy targets into a building.

The entire town had been covered in spikes. She and the other hopefuls had been warned that the Horde had commandeered the settlement and customized it according to their own sick whims, but she hadn't realized that it would basically look like an Orcish village from back on Draenor. Even the bottom floors of all the buildings had been broken and dug into the ground in Orcish style, as if the floor tiles or boards or whatever had originally been used had been smashed to bits, broken and carried away.

But there was no time to think of that now. The assault had been both a resounded success and a great disaster. After having taken the Horde members by surprise, she and the other hopefuls inflicted incredible losses on the enemy and sent them screaming throughout the dirt roads of the village. Every one of them had become energized by the initial succes of their push, breaking formation and chasing random targets through the streets. The lack of organization had proven to be their undoing; they were quickly rout d by the unprofessional but determined militia the orcs had apparently thrown together, and soon the Alliance members found themselves fending off sneak and hit and run attacks by peons wielding pitchforks, hoes and even broomsticks sharpened into points. The dirt roads were stained red as bodies piled up, and at some point one of her comrades had ignited a fire that quickly spread to every building in the village.

Recollection returned to her...the fire. She and several others had chased the screaming peons into a strange Orcish looking hovel that had apparently been constructed after the conquest of the village. A terrible fight at close quarters ensued, and none of the combatants head realized that the domicile had caught on fire too until pieces of the roof began to collapse on them.

Jayavarna coughed roughly again. Her muscles ached from exhaustion as she pushed herself out from under the half of a bookshelf, but she kept her head low due to all the smoke. From memories she couldn't quite remember consciously, she crawled on her hands and knees up the stairs leading out of the partially underground hovel and into the smoky and polluted but still more tolerable outdoor air.

All around her lied death and destruction. Few buildings were left intact and most of the remains were on fire. The night sky glowed red from the columns of flame, contrasting with the red, green and purple hues dancing on the canopy far off from the walled village in the middle of a wide clearing. Flags and tabards flapped in the wind, mostly charred and dirtied, punctuating the silence that fell over the place save the roar of the flames. Not a soul was to be seen, and as Jayavarna sucked in the fresh air, all she could do was marvel at the folly of a conflict that had left every combatant on both sides dead.

Eventually she found the energy to rise to her feet and pick up a stray hand ax once she'd finished checking for injuries. Hooves clopped lightly across the dirt as she stalked through the village, winding around corners created by half destroyed buildings as she looked for signs of life. Nobody else appeared and she began to wonder if she really was the last woman standing.

Beneath the sound of burning wood, a few faint cries from an adult could be heard. The fine hairs in the back of her head stood up, and she braced herself for the worst even though the person was obviously not an orc. Closer and closer she approached until she traced the sound to another hovel like the ones she'd seen on Draenor. Through the dark she could see the outlines of many dead bodies but not make out the details. Picking up a burning piece of lumber like a torch, Jayavarna descended into the hovel, stepping over corpses in her way down into the earthen structure.

"Luro!" she whimpered as she saw the body of her fellow draenei on the floor.

The once strapping man lied among piles of other corpses from both sides, and she could tell that a horrible fight had taken place like the one she'd been involved in. Although his body wasn't mutilated or maimed, he was full of arrows and stab wounds and was clearly beyond even the skills of a proper healer. There was no peace in his expression, either, and Jayavarna could only feel a sense of loss as she looked over her fallen comrade.

The person who had been crying before sniffled, giving her a small jolt and reminding her that she wasn't quite yet alone. Raising the torch, she saw a figure sitting on the floor and leaning against the wall, his legs splayed out before him as he clutched his abdomen. Blood was every where, fresh and still flowing, and she could tell that whoever it was before her was near death.

When Harper looked up, she recognized him, even when his face was streaked by tears. A grievous wound marked his stomach, and judging by the profuse amounts of blood in his hands, she could tell that he'd been stabbed deeply and was probably also beyond healing. That didn't make acceptance of his end any easier, however.

"We've been had," the human lamented while staring down at his legs. His voice was weak, pained and fading fast, and understanding him when he spoke in his language - which wasn't her language - proved difficult.

"Oh, Harper...wait, there must be a first aid kit somewhere." She set the hand ax down and began to search for bandages or ointment, holding her torch over every inch of the dilapidated building. A sense of purpose overtook her as she ignored all the death around her.

Harper would have none of it, however. "Jaya...this was never an Alliance outpost," he whimpered to himself, closing his eyes and letting the back of his head hit the wall hard.

"Not anymore," she replied absentmindedly as she focused in her most immediate task. A cupboard that had been smashed and knocked from the wall onto the floor appeared promising, and she tried to pry in open one handed as they spoke. "Light help us all...they completely wiped out the settlement's previous inhabitants."

But the human only shook his head. "Jaya...it was _never_ an Alliance town. Look around you. Look at this architecture. Look at the flags. This is a Horde town. It wasn't stolen or anything."

"Just a minute." Forcing herself to ignore him out of desperation and denial, she found a means to wedge the torch between two dead bodies that would keep it upright and illuminate the entire room without the need for her to hold it

"Jaya, open your eyes!" Harper groaned, clearly losing his patience despite the fact that blood even began to fall from his mouth as he spoke. "They tricked us, Jaya. These people weren't soldiers; they were just farmers fighting for their lives. We murdered them."

Flipping over the corpse of an orc in civilian clothing, she tried her best not to listen to him as she made space around the collapsed cabinet. "I think I found some disinfectant," she remarked while trying to steady her hands and calm her voice. After a few moments, she managed to pry the cabinet open while leaning over the dead bodies wedged against it, revealing half a roll of stained, soiled bandages. "Aha! Harper, I found some!" she exclaimed, forcing herself to ignore the scene all around her. "Harper?"

He was already dead. The blood loss had been too much, and his last few frustrated words had obviously taxed him beyond what he was capable of bearing. Crouching in front of him, Jayavarna felt his pulse just to be sure that she'd lost him; she truly was the only person left alive. After saying a few prayers that the Light forgive both of her comrades, she exited the hovel, finding herself surrounded by searing smoke and roaring fires again.

The corpses refused to grant her any respite. One by one, she scanned them from her vantage point in the center of the burning village and realized that none of them wore the official Horde tabards for soldiers. While there were a few weapons lying around, she couldn't see any professional fighters other than her now deceased allies; virtually every single member of the Horde was a peon or some other non combat personnel.

Was it really that unclear? The question battered her mind, beating her over the head again and again, refusing to go away. When the assault had first started, arrows flew into the first row of the Alliance ranks; all of them assumed there were professional archers inside. The peons had attacked them when they entered, but all towns had organized militias, and militia members were valid targets...right?

So when she didn't stop to think that not a single combatant she faced wore a red and black tabard, she couldn't be faulted...right? It was the heat of battle, and the response of the locals gave the impression that they had prepared for a fight.

Right?

For the longest time, she waited in the center of that village, hoping some form of inspiration would come to her as she grasped at straws for what to do in such a situation. But no inspiration came; she was just as lost as she'd been a few minutes before. Lost, and pained in the knowledge that she'd taken part in the massacre of civilians.

Unable to assume the worst about Captain Gwynneth, Jayavarna left the burning village, bounding to the north in the direction from whence they came. The guild couldn't have intentionally targeted civilians; it simply seemed impossible. There were answers, and when she had them, her mind could relax in the knowledge of whatever justification there was, Jayavarna repeated to herself as she clopped down the dirt road leading back toward a real civilization.


	4. A Better Place

For what seemed like hours, Jayavarna wandered in the woods of southern Ashenvale. The guild's camp had been mobile, and they most likely wouldn't have remained in one space for long. Although the leader had claimed that they would be watching all the potential recruits, they weren't easily found. For sure they would hide themselves away; it seemed that they relied on stealth rather than open confrontation...which made the mission of full frontal assault on a garrisoned village all the more confusing.

All along the way, Jayavarna tried to convince herself that there has been some greater purpose to the carnage. Perhaps it was lost on her for the time being, or perhaps it was simply beyond her level of combat and even life experience, but she knew that there must be some sort of logical explanation. The guild recruiter she'd met had been so sure of herself, so inspiring, that it seemed impossible that they had been sent on a suicide mission. What would be the point of recruiting potential members, then?

Maybe it was a test, she thought to herself as her tired hooves stumbled over the thick roots of the Ashenvale purplewoods. Were that the case, it would certainly be a harsh and cruel test, and one where most of the aspirants would surely perish. But the more Jayavarna learned about the mysterious inhabitants of this planet called night elves, the more similar they seemed to the more familiar inhabitants of her first planet, the orcs. Both races behaved like they were bred for combat, and didn't shy away from confrontation if they felt their people and their rights were being threatened. There were most assuredly differences in their outlooks on the world and their lifestyles, but that harshness and that tendency to temper the uninitiated on the battlefield was certainly similar.

If that was true...then she really would be the last one standing. Such an attrition rate seemed unbelievable, but maybe that's what such a secretive guild was looking for. She would be the first outlander allowed into the guild, but she experienced difficulty taking solace in that thought. What she'd seen had haunted her, and she wondered whether or not she would be able to live up to the standards set. The thought scared her after she'd come so close to losing her life in a burning building; she felt as if she'd already come too far. But how many times would she be expected to do this? Surely not every mission would be of this nature, right?

Close to where she thought all the hopefuls had initially converged, Jayavarna could hear the soft sounds of a relatively quiet military camp. While they certainly weren't anywhere near as noisy as the orcs, it was clear that the members of the guild weren't concerned with concealing their presence, and her tired legs felt relief wash into them as she finally slowed down to a more comfortable trot. Searching throughout the densely packed forest that seemed to be dark twenty four hours a day, she eventually caught sight of one of the members, the woman's tune etched tabard waving amongst the sea of purple and green. What must have been a third or fourth wind carried her until a few of the silk tents were in view, and the member spotted the exhausted draenei briefly before disappearing into a tent, ostensibly to seek help.

By the time she'd reached the edge of the circle of tents, the silver haired night elf whose nostrils wheezed every time she breathed had exited, and was staring at Jayavarna in disbelief. That both unsettled yet also filled the draenei with pride as she felt it confirmed in her mind that none of them had been expected to make it out of that mission alive; she really had beat all the odds.

Bloodied and bent mail armor clinked as Jayavarna came to a stop before the silver haired sentinel, and she assumed that the stoic woman's stare was one of respect and mild awe. "Reporting...for duty," the draenei panted.

Nostril wheezing the entire time, the quartermistress of the guild looked the potential member up and down. "The others?" the woman asked, both of them carefully considering their words since they were communicating in a language that was foreign to both of them.

"They didn't make it...they didn't make it," Jayavarna panted again. Pain and a bit of sadness bit at her, but the raw feeling of having escaped a battle with her life caused her mostly to feel numb. "I'm the only one."

Nodding and stepping back, the silver haired sentinel excused herself. "Our leader must hear of this." The smaller woman promptly disappeared back into the tent, and hushed conversation in elven language could be heard. That area of the forest was eerily quiet, and the time spent waiting felt even longer as Jayavarna's lungs stung her at every breath.

Eventually the tent flaps were pulled apart, revealing the guild leader herself. The quartermistress walked passed them both, possibly moving to inspect the area back behind them and ensure that nobody had followed them to the camp. Green haired Gwynneth inspected the draenei in much the same manner, almost looking surprised in a way that would have caused her bosom to swell with pride were she not in so much pain from having a ceiling collapse on her.

"Report, soldier," Gwynneth demanded. The language used, as if she were their equal, almost helped the larger woman to forget the horrors she'd witnessed. Almost.

"Oh...well, captain. They, the others didn't make it. We were hit hard by the initial volley thrown at us over the city walls, and then we had to fight street by street, house by house inside. The orcs...they never give up."

"That sounds as we expected. But tell me, child," Gwynneth practically hummed in a low voice that sounded musical even when discussing the most dire of situations. "Are you truly the last woman standing?"

Mulling it over for a moment, Jayavarna went through a mental list in her head just to be sure. "Yes, captain. I saw them all, everybody. We lost them. The people there, in those burrows...buildings. They fought so hard." When Gwynneth nodded in cold, calculating conformation, the draenei felt the suspense to be too much. "Captain...I'm concerned about that city."

"Concerned?" Gwynneth asked, looking concerned herself. "Whatever for?"

"I...well...I..." Jayavarna had no idea how to broach such a topic. It felt disrespectful, as if she'd be doubting the guild's intelligence gathering skills or their strategy by questioning what had happened. But if she truly was the last woman standing, then she felt that she had the right to do so. "Captain...I don't think those orcs were Horde soldiers. They were farmers. And the town...all the architecture was Orcish. But we followed the directions, and that was the place."

Inhaling deeply, Gwynneth folded her arms behind her back and looked contemplative. "Your assumption is correct, soldier; that was never an Alliance town. But that was the point: that Horde town needed to be sacked." Jayavarna tried to form words with her mouth, but no sound came out of her shocked throat, and Gwynneth deemed it fit to continue. "You see, child...we had to eliminate that settlement. It was small, undefended, and easy to take, but contained just enough people that a few might escape the fray. And those people will flee to other towns, and inform them that a diverse force of Alliance soldiers attacked them unprovoked."

The words were said so nonchalantly that they almost seemed like they might make sense. Despite her weariness, however, Jayavarna retained enough good sense to recognize the madness being explained to her. A deep sense of betrayal punched her in the stomach, and the last words of Harper that she'd dismissed as delirium echoed throughout her mind, granting her no respite and no place to hide from the truth. Had she more energy, Jayavarna might have been angry; but in her state, a sense of hopelessness and despair at the wrong she wouldn't be able to right just crushed her to the center of the planet.

She shook her head a few times, disturbed by the way that Gwynneth continued staring at her unapologetically. "But...but...the people...the ones we killed...they were fighting us...we killed them-"

"They fought for their town and their lives, as was to be expected," Gwynneth said dryly, interrupting the flustered and devastated draenei. "Almost all of them were killed for no reason, and news of the senseless massacre will spread. The entirety of the Alliance will be implicated; meanwhile, the report of deceased members of the Alliance will outrage our faction in general. The fact that you - all of you, every last one of you, down to the last person - has no living family members means that nobody will investigate closely enough to realize that an attack on an undefended hamlet seems odd."

Emotions that Jayavarna couldn't even label created a minor storm inside of her, but without the power to truly rage, she merely felt herself melting down. "How could you, captain! Those people, they were innocent - they didn't deserve to die! My comrades didn't deserve to die! All this will do is create more hatred between the two factions - revenge attacks will occur back and forth!"

"Exactly," Gwynneth replied while smiling. She took a step forward and reached a hand out, brushing Jayavarna's bloodied and sweaty bangs away from her contorted face. "There will be revenge. There will be hate. There will be blood. Because neither side will fully understand what happened, both will blame each other; nobody will know exactly what happened, and total war will eventually ensue. This," Gwynneth said while pointing to the ancient elven rune on her tabard. "But there only remains one loose end..."

Furrowing her brow in confusion, Jayavarna tilted her head to avoid the cruel captain's hand, feeling almost nauseous as everything that she held sacred felt violated. Gwynneth just stood there, causal as if there was nothing wrong with all she had claimed, only serving to further increase the draenei's sense of offense.

She was completely unprepared when the silver haired sentinel pressed into her back and and pinned her arms to her sides. The movement was so slow and so fluid that it didn't even feel aggressive at first.

"Hey, what - wait!"

Locking Jayavarna's shoulders with a wrestling hold, the silver haired sentinel then grapevined her legs around the draenei's, placing all of her weight onto the larger but absolutely exhausted woman's back and then leaning, pulling both of them to the ground with a loud thud. The silverhead was on the bottom, skillfully keeping contro, while on her own back and clinging to Jayavarna like a spider monkey and putting the draenei into a very exposed, prone position with her belly up toward the dark canopy. Jayavarna gasped and protested and even called for help, but found her muscles too worn out to properly resist the night elf, whose wheezing nostril tickled in her ears.

Before she could even realize what was happening, Jayavarna looked up to find Gwynneth hanging over her like a long shadow. Dark, menacing and blotting out the view of the world, the sharp, pointy silhouette brightened by two silver glowing dots braced itself on the ground over her, leaving only a few inches of space in between them despite the sensation of a huge gap. A single dark hand reached to the side, feeling the gaps in the middle of Jayavarna's midriff armor and searching carefully. Using the precision of a shaman performing an invasive operation, Gwynneth dragged her sword harmlessly along the exposed amount of skin beneath the draenei's floating rib, conveniently fitting into a spot where the mail armor had been torn open.

A sharp, stinging cold pain pierced into Jayavarna's abdomen as she cried out at the injustice of it all. Pushing further and further inside, the intruding force caused her to panic, but her arms and legs were too strongly restrained for her to thrash and Gwynneth lowered herself just enough to sandwich the draenei between the two night elves once the blade was safely inside the body of its target. Tears welled up at the edges of Jayavarna's eyes finally, not from the pain but rather from the anger at both the guild and herself.

She breathed in, and breathed out, feeling a burning cold high up inside as her oxygen supply was slowly cut off. It didn't hurt as much as one might expect it to. Then again, one generally didn't expect to be impaled by a sword.

Betrayal mounting, she nearly found herself speechless. "Why?" she asked, finding her lungs incapable of pumping normally around the intrusion.

The sword already inside, Gwynneth removed her free hand from the wound and tucked Jayavarna's bangs behind her ears. The captain looked absolutely psychotic, staring into the draenei so calmly as if nothing out of the ordinary were happening.

"You see, child...this was all part of the plan. From the very start, our recruiter watched the newbies in the inns and taverns. Everybody has a woobie sob story, usually embellished as people compete to see who had the most difficult life. But the orphans...the loners, the wanderers, the ones nobody will miss...your kind make for the perfect cannon fodder. Nobody will miss you. Nobody will investigate. You will just be a statistic in the gazettes from Darnassus to the Exodar to Stormwind. People will care inasmuch as their prejudices are confirmed...and then, you will be forgotten."

"Argh!" Jayavarna cried as she sword was pushed even higher into the wound. Gwynneth's hand on the draenei's forehead retained the same soft pressure, and the night elf's nostrils didn't flare nor did her pupils - visible that close up - dilate. Her heart rate probably didn't increase, either.

"So your death, and those of those strangers you erroneously referred to as comrades, will not be without merit. We'll easily lead local authorities to your bodies, and the Alliance will blame the Horde and vice versa. The cycle of violence will continue, until a fourth war can occur...it's beautiful. Our guild is the beginning of a new world, a world that needs to be saved from itself. We will break the weak with our violence, and allow the strong to arise. And then, when total war can spread, the resulting purges will cleanse the planet once more."

"Hhhhhhnnnnnn!"

All oxygen left Jayavarna's lungs when Gwynneth pulled the sword out, using equal surgical precision to when it had been shoved in. Cold pain was soon replaced bys system shock, interrupted only by the brief discomfort when the silver haired sentinel beneath her shoved her to the side in order to stand up along with Gwynneth.

Conversation in elven continued, though Jayavarna could no longer hear it. Only the rhythmic wheezing of a deviated septum could be heard as the world turned black, and her sense of foolishness was replaced by a final curse, a wish for the world to find out before it was too late for an endless cycle of senseless violence and pointless revenge to ensue.

The world became dark, but the coldness slowly bled out along with her life force. Pain that had beat in the place of her heart faded away alongside her vision, and Jayavarna found solace in her wish, even if it seemed so far off. As her soul drifted away to another place - a better place, a place without fear or hate or pain or sadness - her body ceased its weeping, accepting what had come to pass.

The tents were rolled up, and the camp moved out in order to cry crocodile tears to the nearest Alliance outriders. Victorious, Gwynneth marched away, leaving the bodies of the fallen on both sides littering the forest floor of southern Ashenvale. On many days, the wicked would get theirs; but in that day, she tasted her small victory and savored it to the very end.

 **A/N: this is the only the second story I've written with a sad ending. During the next few years, I only plan for two more and they're unrelated to this. It's stressful and difficult to do, but sometimes a writer's feelings need to be expressed - even when they're negative.**

 **For those who reached the end, all I can say is that I hope this elicited some sort of emotion from you - that's a writer's job. For those who plan to continue, we eventually see Gwynneth's crimes catch up with her. In the upcoming story 'You, Me & Us,' a forty five chapter behemoth featuring my main OC couple Cecilia and Khujand, we get to see if Gwynneth's plans come to fruition.**

 **Until then, I wish all readers the best and I hope that this was't too upsetting. Love your family, even those members you fight with more often, and cherish them no matter how angry you feel.**


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